


Sounds and Sweet Airs

by monkeystypinghamlet



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 21:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2284701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkeystypinghamlet/pseuds/monkeystypinghamlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hero's stream of consciousness following her birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First non-bean fic. This has been going round in my head ever seen the Hero's Birthday episode came out but I could never quite write it.
> 
> It's all streaming out onto paper now.
> 
> Style is quite Daniel Handler.
> 
> Title from Shakespeare's The Tempest.

Everything happens in slow motion.

It’s funny how it takes weeks for things to come close to being perfect yet it all can collapse in just a few seconds. All this time I’ve been ignoring every little bad sign and now it’s coming crashing down on me.

His words attack me like fire, burning my every feeling and circling me in a blazing trap. The rest of the world is shut off and I can’t think, only what he says is left and I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

Does he even know who I am? Has all of this been built on an unstable foundation, only to collapse beneath me when I least expect it?

There’s a hand on my arm. I am pulled to a sitting position and I can see someone trying to talk to me.

The tears come now and fast. I hear yelling for people to leave.

Happy birthday to me, I think. What an unforgettable day.

 

I wake up unable to breathe.

I start panicking, my screams sucking away all of the precious air I have left.

I hear the door to my room fly open and someone asks me what is wrong. I can’t speak.

An inhaler is handed to me. I’m instructed to take deep breaths.

_In. Out._

_In. Out._

_One. Two. Three._

I’m tucked back into bed and sent off to sleep.

 

It was a nightmare. I dreamt that he had come back and apologised. That he had said it was all a big misunderstanding and he wanted my forgiveness. Here was the list of reasons that led him astray and he was sorry and he’d never, ever do it again.

He would never, ever hurt me.

He smiled at me with that gorgeous grin that always made me melt. He put him arms around me and then I’d woken up with no air.

 

I’m so stupid. I’m so naive and innocent and I’m trying so hard to spread niceness and joy so I just don’t understand why is this all happening to me.

What’s wrong with wanting to be nice?

Am I supposed to protect this with some harsh exterior?

I can’t do that.

_I can’t do this._

 


	2. Chapter 2

I fell in love with the fairytale of it all.

What can I say? One day I noticed that a very good-looking, seemingly nice enough boy was paying me attention in a way that I thought no one ever would. Me. Out of everyone he knew, all the pretty girls and fancy ladies, he chose me.

The fact that I’m a year younger didn’t matter. I thought that proved it - he didn’t care about boundaries. But now I see why, it’s because I’m young and naive and easy to fool.

 

I tell myself that looks don’t matter and I believe that. I believe that close connections are based on things other than the physical.

But there was a part of me that fell in love with the fact that it was the cute boy who liked me. Being liked by the cutest boy you’ve ever met makes you feel special, makes you feel like you are somehow worthy. What’s wrong with that?

The answer, of course, is this makes you feel like he chose you and that he had the power to do that. And he shouldn’t have power like that.

 

He’ll call. Soon. He will.

He’ll apologise. He’ll clear everything up, say that this is all just a big misunderstanding. I never did anything wrong. Everything will go back to normal soon.

 

I don’t sleep that night.

I watch the minutes tick by on my phone. He doesn’t call. Not once.

That’s okay, I think. It’s late. He’s probably asleep, wondering how on earth he could explain himself to me.

_Call_ , I will him. Tell me what happened. Please.

 

**Hero:** Please call me. I don’t know what’s going on.

**Hero:** What were you talking about???

**Hero:** Call me? I’m so confused right now.

 

I crack just after midnight. I send the texts before I can think better of it and cry after they are gone. I want to take it all back. The texts, the nightmares, the party.

The flirting. The texting late at night. The falling asleep talking on the phone to seeing who was more bleary-eyed the next day, to glancing at each other at lunchtime, to watching him on the football pitch.

The first party. The first date in the park and every moment after that. The notes he passed in class and the way I giggled at him.

The way I changed, how I spent more time with him and less with my friends. The subtle differences in my behaviour. Putting him first, even before myself.

The cuddling and kissing and holding and releasing and what I want so badly right now but have to let go.

Take it back.

_Take it all back._


End file.
